Page 40 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens

My brows furrowed when I took the map out from my cloak. “According to the map, the palace is in that direction.” I pointed south.

Francis laughed, staring at the very stolen map in my hands. “Where in the Kingdom did you get this?”

“Your library,” I shrugged.

“A thief,” he winked, riding away from the direction I just pointed at.

“Where are you going?” I stopped Annabelle altogether, refusing to go any further.

“Come now, you didn’t think it would be a good idea to go to the palace now. You need rest, Princess.”

“I am well, thank you,” I argued.

“Our horses need rest to make the trip back.” Francis turned to glare at me. “We don't know what hurry we’ll need to leave in. Besides, when was the last time you’ve fed?” he asked me.

My face flushed at the mention of blood and I thanked the darkness for hiding my embarrassment. My throat ached from the reminder of the crimson liquid and my hands instinctively flew to cover it.

“That's what I thought,” Francis chuckled. “You want to endanger humans now? I thought this whole adventure was supposed to do the exact opposite.”

There was definitely logic in his words, although I was not convinced of his true motives. “That doesn’t answer my question. Where are you going?” I demanded.

“Have some faith in me, Your Highness.” He started his horse once again without waiting for me to follow. “We are going to my cabin.”

Leaving me alone in these foreign woods, he did not give me much of a choice but to follow after him, into the unknown.

In the middle of the meadow, hidden by dense spruce, settled down a small—two story—wooden cabin. A short, broken fence encircled the house. Its every window was painted black.

“My human family used to live here,” Francis said quietly, opening the metal lock. “Make yourself comfortable.” Francis gestured for me to enter.

A small kitchenette was set right by the entrance door to the right. A long extinguished fireplace took up the majority of the space. Only one person could fit in this corridor.

“You can take this room,” Francis pointed out the black door by the ladder that led to the second floor. “Let me see if we have any blood stored here.” He lit up the candles set along the walls of the corridor.

The floor creaked underneath my steps as I set a foot inside the room. Taking off my cloak, I closed the door behind me when the sound of every cabinet door opening reached my ears.

My eyes adjusted to the unnatural darkness almost immediately, leaving my brows to frown in confusion. Although I could not see any color, my vision allowed me to assess the space I would reside in.

The room was tiny, a small bed was set across from the black painted window. The room was crowded, overflowing with books and children’s paintings. Spider webs covered every corner of the furniture.

“Here, I found some for you.” Turning to the sound of his voice, I spotted Francis at the threshold of the room. Francis froze in his place, looking me straight in the eyes. I spotted the bottle with crimson liquid in his hand, yet my eyes traveled straight to his neck.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, as my heart rushed inside of my chest. My nostrils flared, my lungs ached.

An unknown desire within me fought for its way out.